Lù Yìnóng is a martyr, a hero.

She infiltrated the drug trafficking group on the Sino-Vietnamese border and continuously provided intelligence, thwarting several large-scale drug transactions by the group.

At the site of a major transaction between the two groups a month ago, a large number of police forces gathered, preparing to launch an encirclement. However, Lù Yìnóng suddenly realized that it was a trap.

The actual transaction location was not included in the previously sent intelligence.

The timed explosives had already started counting down. Lù Yìnóng had a chance to escape, but she chose to send one final piece of intelligence to her comrades.

"Go back."

But she herself could never go back.

A violent explosion erupted, flames reaching the sky. Trees within a dozen meters instantly ignited, forming small-scale wildfires.

In that urn, only a portion of suspected remains were contained.

She couldn't even leave behind a complete body.

Uncle Yuán said, "Her sacrifice was worthwhile. Following the clues she left behind, we dismantled the drug trafficking group and captured over a dozen high-ranking fugitives. Among them was the murderer who killed her parents many years ago."

In the Martyrs' Cemetery, Lù Yìnóng's tombstone stands next to her parents'.

I crouched down and gently traced her eyebrows and eyes.

This should be a photo of her when she entered the police academy, still young and immature.

But between her brows, there was already a maturity beyond her age.

Through the camera lens, not a trace of a smile could be found on Lù Yìnóng's face.

Separated by years and a cycle of life and death, we gazed at each other from afar.

"I was surprised when she brought you to have a meal with me that time because I had never seen her with a boy before," Uncle Yuán said. "Look at her photo, she rarely smiled, but that day, she smiled many times."

My nose started to feel a tingling sensation.

But my eyes, which had been crying continuously for several days, were so dry that not even a tear could form.

I remained silent, putting one paper bill after another into the bonfire.

Imitating her appearance from years ago.

The ashes were carried by the wind and fell onto her photo.

And she remained forever young, forever aloof, frozen in eternity.